Page 15 of A Flurry for a Duke

Isaac galloped after the carriage under cloud-streaked skies.

As he approached, he saw that the carriage had come to a standstill at the top of a small incline in the road. Slowing his breaths, he cautiously edged closer. Without seeing inside or ahead of the carriage, he had no way of knowing why they had stopped.

His horse whinnied. Looking down, he saw an apple roll under foot. The horse promptly snatched it up and ate it.

What the hell?

Isaac left the saddle and dropped the reins, intending for the horse to stay where he was. He crept up the bank of the hill. Closing in on the carriage, he stayed to the side closest to the trees. When he reached the crest of the hill, he saw a most peculiar sight. An apple cart turned over blocking the road. The carriage couldn’t pass over the split wood and rolling apples everywhere. A disheveled, and overly perspiring man stood in the middle of it, shouting at another man who was clearly the cart owner, for he was chomping on one of his apples, looking unperturbed.

“These things happen,” the cart owner shrugged. Chomp. Another bite. “Here, try one. They’re delicious.”

“I don’t want a sodding apple. I want you to clear up this mess. Now.”

The insouciant man shrugged again. “Can’t fix the split pieces of wood now, can I?”

“Remove it from the road then, will you?”

The cart owner reached for a piece with one hand while holding onto his apple. He tossed the piece to the side. Aiming, poorly, for the grassy shoulder of the road.

“Ow! You imbecile,” the sweaty man bellowed, rubbing his shin.

This was his chance. Isaac tapped on the carriage door, praying that there would only be one other thug involved, if any.

Nothing happened. He tapped again. “Hope,” he hissed as loudly as he dared.

No answer. He tugged on the door, and it burst open.

There laid Hope, eyes closed, body limp against the squabs.

Oh God! Had they killed her? Isaac bounded up into the carriage. Immediately he reached for her wrist, desperate to sense a pulse. Nothing. His hands trembled.

“Hope?” He cupped her face. “Hope, answer me.”

She was unconscious. Was she gone? He pressed a finger to her throat, searching again. But his own pulse was wildly thumping through his veins and he couldn’t discern if she had a pulse. It didn’t matter. He needed to get her out of here.

He dragged her body over his shoulder and hopped out of the carriage.

His horse was plodding toward him. He wasn’t about to ask questions. He had a chance to get her out of there while the two men were still arguing.

As gently as he could, he laid her across the horse. His next decision was whether to mete out punishment on the ruffian or quickly get Hope to safety. It was impossible to know if he had time to spare to beat the man to a pulp.

“Hey! What the devil do you think you’re doing?” The sweaty man turned his shouting to Isaac.

The decision made for him, Isaac left Hope’s side and marched over to the kidnapper. Of all things, the ruffian bent down, scooped up a handful of apples, and began throwing them at Isaac.

“What the—?”

An apple almost struck his shoulder, but he dodged it.

“Give ‘er back!” the man screamed. “I gotta get my money from The Rider for that girl.”

“The Rider?” Isaac assumed the ruffian was referencing the handsome man on the horse. He would have to find out more later, since The Rider was gone, and the ruffian was unlikely to casually give up more information. It was enough for now that he was foiling the ransom plan and keeping her safe.

“Never mind him. You’ll have to kill me to get me to talk.”

Isaac didn’t bother unpacking the illogic of that statement.

“Give me the girl!” he shouted again.

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